The Horrors Of Knowledge
by Uphill Both Ways
Summary: While Izaya is recovering from his discovery, Shizuo stumbles upon what Izaya's trying to forget. Sequel; The Dangers Of Curiosity


The Horrors Of Knowledge;

While Izaya is recovering from his discovery, Shizuo stumbles upon what Izaya's trying to forget.

* * *

It was the ideal day for sightseeing and city shopping; the sun shone proudly in the cloudless sky and gleamed off of metallic cars as they shot through the streets, and the light breeze cooled the heat to a tolerable temperature. The beauty of it all was lost to Shizuo as he bolted down the sidewalk, colorful shop windows and people blurring in his peripheral vision while he focused on only one thing; Izaya Orihara.

He hadn't seen the informant in almost a week, and it bugged the hell out of Shizuo. Paranoia had him envisioning some master plan of Izaya's that the flea was secretly planning while the anxiety ate away at Shizuo. Not being able to tolerate his frustration, Shizuo decided to personally visit the flea's apartment and eradicate the burden once and for all. The sea of pedestrians parted around his path anxiously, knowing better than to cross the Demon of Wrath.

Shizuo huffed when he reached the slate gray door of the man's office, resting a fist against the wall while he caught his breath. Just before the blond was about to demolish the door, a badly torn piece of paper caught his attention as it fluttered against its tape binds in the slight draft. Shizuo recognized the brunette's messy scrawl immediately, the note read;

'_Out rethinking my life. I'll be back whenever I return. –Orihara Izaya'_

Shizuo scoffed, doubting the sincerity in the words and not wanting to be fooled by such a thing. With that, the blond's foot connected with the door, splintering as the door was sent crashing into the wall behind its now empty frame. Shizuo stepped cautiously into the sunlit room, senses flaring in anticipation while he scanned the seemingly vacant office area. His eyes narrowed in confusion; no trace of Izaya seemed present at all, in fact he could see dust settling along the multiple surfaces in the room, but the most unsettling thing was that the man appeared to have left in haste; random piles of belongings scattered across the floor as if shuffled through then left there. Shizuo _knew_ Izaya wouldn't settle for less than perfection in _his_ office.

Shizuo checked all around the apartment and off-hand rooms thoroughly for the informant, going so far as to check in the _refrigerator_. The only trace of Izaya was the sticky-note placed sloppily on a box of fatty tuna reading;

'_No one touch. (Namie, that means you.)—Izaya'_

It seemed that this Namie person had ignored the warning and taken a piece of sushi anyway, so Shizuo took one as well, just to toss it in a trash bin next to the refrigerator to spite his enemy. The blond slammed the door to the refrigerator shut, straightening up and placing his hands on his hips while frowning and wondering what he should do now that he was there. Shizuo considered smashing in the wall of windows among other things, until a small but colorful stack of books next to Izaya's still humming laptop distracted him. Walking over to the otherwise vacant desk, Shizuo grabbed the top novel and examined the cover.

His interest was peaked as he flipped aimlessly through the pages, multiple tears in the pages showed that Izaya was obviously irritated at some point while reading it, and the gaping holes ruined any possibility of deciphering the content. Shizuo tossed the book onto another spot on the table, maneuvering to the other side of the rectangle to look through the other books. His hand accidentally pressed against the spacebar on the dark laptop, screen flickering to life and an internet picture burned on the monitor.

--I heart…_Shizaya_? The hell does that mean?

In confusion, Shizuo turned his attention away from the laptop again and back to the pile of light novels. He shuffled through the first few, throwing them aside in random directions since they all had suffered from Izaya's blade, and though Shizuo's curiosity was weighing heavily in his mind, he was about to give up looking for an uninjured book when he came across the final three that remained unscathed.

-- Why on earth did that stupid flea buy them just to destroy them?

The internal questions went unanswered as excitement pricked at Shizuo's stomach, feeling like he was about to reveal some major secret of Izaya's. The cover held only a title and adult-content warnings, but as the page was flipped Shizuo's vision filled with the image of two men; one blond and one brunette, and as he looked closer he could swear that—

--They kind of resemble Izaya and I in a wa—hold on, _is_ it? No, it can't—it _IS_?

The blond's hands gripped the book harshly and a confused grimace spread on his face as he read his and Izaya's name printed beneath the colorful artwork, with a random 'x' placed between them.

--What is he _reading_?

Shizuo remembered the adult content label, and his mind easily made connections with violence and gore, suspecting that the 'x' was a substitute for 'vs' and some kid had illustrated a fictional fight or something. A grin replaced the strangled frown while Shizuo imagined Izaya shredding the other books in anger since he probably lost the fights in those ones.

--Serves the flea right.

The blond eagerly turned the next page, and the next, skimming over the exposition of the novel and ignoring the plain pictures. The next page had him gripping the edge of Izaya's desk in a fit of laughter, a detailed and horrendously perfect image of _Izaya_ in a _maid's_ _uniform_ splayed out on two whole pages. His body shook so much, that he fell back into the wheeled chair tucked under the desk, only to be sobered when the chair wobbled and the seat fell from atop the base. _Somebody_ had spun the seat all the way to the top notch, stopping just before the seat spun right off the base.

--Damn flea, with his damn five-year old tendencies.

Shizuo cursed vehemently in his mind as he rose uncomfortably from the floor, urge to throw the chair and other furniture in the room along with it out the window suppressed only by the obsession to continue reading the pictures. The blond grabbed the light novel once more off the floor, and settled for leaning against the desk while he skimmed through the page once more; reading dialogue and narration had never been his thing. More embarrassingly hilarious pictures of Izaya resided in the next few panels, when Shizuo finally caught sight of his own image. "Damn straight," Shizuo mumbled proudly at being the only tough thing in the book so far.

His hypothetical vase of pride went crashing to the floor and shattered into a million hypothetical little pieces when the next five pages rolled around.

--Waiiiiit a second, woah, it almost looks like my han—Oh shit—what the _hell_?

The graphic clarity of the images no longer impressed Shizuo as his character's hands started violating the informant's body in _all the wrong ways_.

--W-WHAT? THIS IS NOT THE RIGHT KIND OF 'ACTION'! AT _ALL_!

Shizuo's fingers almost stabbed holes into the glossy pages as his confusion returned and embarrassment rose steadily.

--Isn't this the part where, I don't know, we _kill_ each other or something?

Shizuo couldn't tear his eyes away from the taunting pages, enraptured and disgusted all at once, an addiction to the mental pain started to form as his character _scratched_ and _bit_ and _ravished_ Izaya's body in the _opposite_ way Shizuo _ever_ intended to. His fingers fumbled numbly with the doom-filled pages, each flip of a page like another stab to Shizuo's mind. Even Izaya's submissive and out of character pleading and actions lost humor at the same time clothes were.

--They've got it _all fucking wrong_, my hand should be around his _neck_, not his…what _is_ tha—Oh.

Shizuo tried desperately to justify the scene that began unfolding.

"_Izaya, I'm going to fuck you until you can't see straight_."

--I'm sure they meant 'fuck you up'.

"_You want me to touch here?"_

--Typo of, 'what do you want me to rip off first?'

"_Ahh, s-so __**tight**__, Izaya…"_

--….

"_Nngh, Iza-kun~"_

--Oh. _Fuck_. No.

Justifications be damned, Shizuo finally snapped and anger soared through his system at uneven intervals. As the blond snapped his hand back to grasp the desk and send it flying out the windows along with the cursed doujinshi, his thumb brushed against the backspace of the laptop, loading the last search from Izaya's internet to pop up.

Shizuo didn't mean to—didn't _want_ to—but he caught visual of the list of websites under the term 'Izaya/Shizuo' and realized just how much he had been unaware of. Links to explicit pictures and other fan works popped up on screen, and it made the blond wonder _who had time to make this shit_. Shame and humiliation and blame seared through his veins along with rage, creating a fatal mix of new hatred—and the sentencing of abhorrence and blame fell on one individual;

Izaya Orihara.

--IT'S ALL THE DAMN FLEA'S FAULT—SICK MINDED BASTARD, WITH HIS _DISGUSTING_ HOBBIES,

The desk crashed through the window, the laptop and a few of the light novels along with it. The blond's tirade didn't stop there. He continued raging through the office until nothing was left in its original position—no chair or table or shelf left upturned, broken, or redecorated. Items were scattered mindlessly around the floor and strung through lights and even embedded in the wall or ceiling in some cases. Streams of curses and threats erupted from Shizuo's throat as he demolished the informant's office complex, the only coherent thing uttered being the routine;

"!!!"

* * *

Erika Karisawa strolled happily beside her best friend and companion, Walker Yumasaki, as they chatted aimlessly about everything and nothing at the same time, mostly enjoying each other's company. And occasionally comparing passerby's with characters from their fandoms;

"Hey-hey! That girl looks like Misa Amane!"

"Wah, there goes Hei~"

"NO—that's definitely Kurogane."

"Fine, but only if you admit _she_ looks more like _Haruhi Suzumiya_ than _Misa_."

" Psh. As _if_, just like potato-head over there looks like _Draco Malfoy_."

"Now that you mention it…"

After a little more of the banter, Walker was pointing towards a particular gentleman, making several more references until a _desk_ crashed down upon the poor man. Erika and Walker immediately rushed over, not to help the pedestrian, but to see what the action was about, eagerly coming up with several rash assumptions.

"What if the world is ending?"

"Or maybe a Shinigami appeared?!"

"What if RUKIA AND RYUUK are there!!?"

"What if THE _ABYSS_ OPENED—"

"WITH THE CHAINS? KYAA~"

"OR TEITO AND CELTY TEAMED UP AN—"

Then Shizuo's voice boomed from somewhere above their heads.

"Aw, it's just Shizu-Shizu," Erika complained, temporarily put-off, until her eye caught something familiar. She tugged loosely on Walker's shirt, not looking at him as she dashed over near where the desk had been before being moved off of the man, and grabbed something from off the ground. Walker looked over at her questioningly, and she raised a book high above her head, waving it with a smile; "It's that doujinshi I lost about a week ago, I wondered where that went!"

Walker simply nodded and grinned in acknowledgement, and Erika looked back at the novel in her hands. Then, distracted by a faint glowing, the girl noticed the barely working laptop next to her feet, screen cracked and horribly disfigured but the image onscreen soon became recognizable. She only just noticed the multiple tears in the pages and faded sticky-note atop the cover. A feeling of absolute numbness overcame her as she realized the meaning of the note;

'_Talk to Karisawa_.'

The situation became utterly clear.

_Shizuo. Izaya's office building .Missing Izaya. Desk from window. Frozen laptop monitor with a Shizuo/Izaya image on it. Chat with Izaya same day novel and informant went missing._

Erika shuddered slightly, and ran back over to her confused friend for comfort as she awaited her impending doom.

* * *

Shizuo panted slowly, collapsing against an upturned sofa in the wonderfully cluttered apartment, his anger broiling down into a stressed calm. Destroying everything in the flea's complex was immensely satisfying, but it didn't quite take the place of actually destroying _Izaya_.

He'd wait for the flea to return, _then_ confront him on the whole bloody mess. Shizuo sank into the surprisingly plush back of the couch, exhaustion from such physical exertion kicking in steadily, sleep crept in as one final thought dictated Shizuo's mind;

'_Well_,' He grinned slightly, despite the distaste still clawing at his throat as his eyes slipped shut, '_At least those people know who'd top_.'

* * *

**A/N: Yepp. *Head/Desk* **


End file.
